


After the second or third snap

by thesoundofnat



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Iron Dad, Iron Fam, Nightmares, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Canon Fix-It, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 21:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18881827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoundofnat/pseuds/thesoundofnat
Summary: Tony wakes up after the second or third snap and finds himself with a prosthetic arm and four kids.





	After the second or third snap

**Author's Note:**

> A super self-indulgent post Endgame fix it fic where that one thing didn’t happen and Tony suddenly has four kids. Enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Endgame spoilers, nightmares, hints at trauma and PTSD.

So you’d saved the universe, almost died, gotten resurrected and were now living your life with a mechanic arm like some sort of Winter Soldier 2.0 and also found yourself with four children instead of the one you’d had before? Yeah, Tony had had a busy year.

He’d woken up at the hospital a week after the snap. The second snap, that is. Or was it the third? The one that had fixed it all, anyway.

(He still couldn’t believe it had worked.)

No one was leaving him out of their sight and apparently hadn’t since he’d ended up there. He wasn’t complaining, though. He had a hard time believing they were real and that this wasn’t an elaborate prank Thanos was pulling off. Despite being dead. They were telling him he was dead. That Tony’s snap had killed him, or whatever being turned to dust meant.

“Can you stand?”

Tony wanted to roll his eyes so badly, but truth be told he wasn’t entirely sure he  _could_. He looked at Rhodey for a moment, unblinking, jaw working. Rhodey got the hint and took a step closer, letting Tony hold onto him as he slowly moved off the hospital bed, the two of them pulling him upright. His body would most likely never be the same again. He could probably use his prosthetic arm just as well as he’d used his flesh one - once he’d figured out all the quirks because it wasn’t as easy as it looked - but the rest?

He groaned, every muscle straining, screaming, as he and Rhodey put more and more weight onto his legs. They’d been doing this for the past week, slowly testing his body and preparing it for the eventual separation from the bed. Tony was weak, but he was getting restless. Needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

“Don’t overwork yourself, Tones,” Rhodey said, a gentle reprimand. They all knew Tony would break his own legs in an attempt to seem strong enough to leave.

He deflated, suddenly falling back onto the mattress. “Shit.”

“Don’t.”

“I-”

“You shouldn’t even be alive and you’re mad your body hasn’t recovered in a month?”

“God, I hate it when you’re right.”

Rhodey let out a laugh. He’d been doing that more often recently.

The door pushed open slowly, a face peeking in. “Mr Stark?”

They all ignored the heart monitor acting up. It always did that when Peter walked into the room; his mere presence always a surprise. His existence still not something Tony was used to. Could barely believe.

Tony sent him a tired smile. “School let you out early?”

“It’s Saturday,” he said and opened the door fully to pull a dimpled Morgan in with him.

It still got to him, seeing his kids together, after thinking he’d never be able to introduce them. It still made him tear up so violently he sometimes actually shed tears. No one - but Morgan - ever commented on that either.

“Hi, kiddo,” he said as she bounced over, careful not to touch him like she’d been instructed. God, Tony couldn’t wait to hug her so tightly they became one. “Did you have fun with Peter?”

She nodded. “Uh huh.”

“What did you do?”

“Got ice cream.”

“Ice cream, huh.” He ran his palm over her cheek. “He’s a nice babysitter.”

He also had nightmares, but Tony only found that out several months later.

Peter had stayed over so many times after Tony was able to go back home that they installed a whole new room for him.

“That way you won’t have to fight everyone over the couch,” Tony had said and used all his strength to punch him lightly on the shoulder.

Peter had been beaming for days.

On most nights, Tony slept well, if only because he was constantly exhausted. But on the occasional restless neverending turning and tossing fest, he would wander the house just to remind himself of the people who occupied it. Remind himself that they were all there, safe, asleep.

It was a night like such that he first heard Peter crying.

He paused, ears straining, practically pushing himself against Peter’s door in order to hear him better. It wasn’t necessary. It was the type of sobbing that you couldn’t really muffle.

He entered, panicked. “Pete.”

Peter untangled from the heap beneath the covers. “Tony.”

“Kid, what’s wrong?”

Peter wore his emotions on his sleeve. Tony had always admired that about him, but he’d never seen him break down like this before. Not even his panicked rambling before the snap was on this level of hysteria.

Tony held him as he cried that night. Reassured him that everything was fine and he was here and Tony was here and everyone was all right. In the end he almost believed it himself.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said once he was calm, his breathing regular.

“Don’t,” Tony said, running his thumb over Peter’s cheek to wipe the tears away. “Don’t apologize for feeling.”

“I don’t really feel as if I have the right to feel like this.”

“Stop that.”

“You’re here, right? You made it. We’re all back. I don’t know why I’m so-”

“Peter.”

Peter leaned forward, pressing his face into Tony’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

Tony wrapped his arms around him. “Please stop.”  _Stop repeating the last sentence you’d said before vanishing._  “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Morgan found them like that, eyes blinking in a way that told him the noise had woken her up. “Daddy?”

Peter tried to push away from Tony’s embrace, something he often did whenever Morgan was around. Assuring her he wasn’t stealing her father.

Tony almost rolled his eyes. “Come here, bean,” he said, opening one of his arms to let her crawl into the hug. “There’s plenty of space.”

He noticed Morgan seemed much more attached to him now after his hospital stay. Every morning she would wrap her hand around the fingers of his uninjured hand, hold them for a moment, before allowing him to continue making breakfast. As if she, too, needed to remind herself that he was real. That little mind and heart of hers. They were bigger than all of them.

“I can’t regret anything that’s happened,” he told Pepper one evening, the two of them curled up on the couch, alone for once thanks to Happy taking Morgan to the movies. “Not when it brought her to us.”

Pepper hummed, her fingers in his hair in that soothing manner of hers. “I know what you mean.” A pause, and, “I’m happy you can finally have some peace of mind, now that they’re all back.”

He squeezed her. “On a scale of one to ten, how angry are you at me for doing the snap?”

Her lips twitched. “I would’ve been angrier had you not survived.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m around to face it then.”

She laughed. He laughed. The topic slowly getting easier to talk about, as did everything.

Pepper kissed his prosthetic knuckles and said, “So when are we inviting Nebula over for dinner again?”

Nebula. Tony had been worried that they would only remind each other of the time stuck in space, starving and hopeless, but they didn’t. In fact, he felt even more protective of her once they were on Earth. She’d been one of the few people who semi regularly visited him after Morgan was born. She respected his choice to lead a quiet life and never asked anything of him. Rhodey had once called her his second daughter, which was ridiculous but… well, he couldn’t deny it. She was in such obvious need of a good parental figure, after everything.

“You don’t have to adopt everyone, you know,” Pepper had once said, but there was no malice in her voice. Only fond amusement.

“I know,” he’d replied, bouncing one year old Morgan in his lap. “But I know all too well what it means to not have that kind of support in your life.”

That had been the last time Pepper had brought it up.

Nebula told him she wasn’t on Earth when he called, but that she’d come over as soon as she was back. Tony asked her to be careful, and she rolled her eyes.

“You’re such a dad,” Peter told him, having been sitting quietly on the couch doing homework during Tony’s call.

Tony snorted, giving him a poke to the ribs. “I’ve never heard you complain.”

Peter grinned. “Oh, I’m sure I’ve complained. Remember the baby monitor?”

“I don’t regret that one a bit.”

“Of course not, pops.”

When Tony had nightmares, he dreamt of Peter and Morgan and Pepper being torn to pieces. Not dust. Pieces. The time Harley appeared in one of those dreams, was the first time he called him in five years. He’d tried to, after the first snap, but he’d been one of the victims. His world felt so small after everything, and he had a hard time imagining people having lives outside of his bubble. People being back when he couldn’t see them.

Harley told him he’d heard Tony had saved everyone, after he’d returned. He was about Peter’s age now, both of them teens even though they should’ve been in their 20s by now.

“You wanna come over?” Tony asked. “Or can I come see you?”

“I’ll come over. Old men like you shouldn’t travel.”

“Brat.”

Harley was laughing on the other end, and Tony felt his heart soar. He’d missed their phone calls.

No one questioned Tony flying a kid they’d never met over. They’d heard of him, of course, but Tony had a feeling he could bring just about anyone to the lakehouse and no one would say a word. Saving the world - and almost dying - had its perks.

“Peter offered you to have his room for the weekend,” Tony said.

Harley, taller than Tony now that bastard, put his bag down. “Is Peter your son?”

“Something like that. But don’t you worry.” Tony nudged him in the ribs. “You were my first born pain in the ass.”

Morgan adored him, just like she’d adored Peter and Nebula. They all had an obvious soft spot for her too, but Harley fell in love. For two whole days, he wouldn’t stop carrying her. Tony jokingly asked if he was gonna try to sneak her into his bag before leaving.

“Don’t tempt me,” Harley had said, giving Morgan a squeeze.

His weekend turned into a week, which just so happened to be the same week Nebula was coming over. Suddenly their lakehouse felt a bit smaller, but his heart so much fuller.

“I can sleep with Harley and Nebula can have Peter’s room and Peter can sleep with you,” Morgan was saying, and Tony had to laugh at Peter’s scandalized face as he said, “The couch works just fine, really.”

They compromised. Morgan slept with him and Pepper, Nebula got Morgan’s room and Harley stayed in Peter’s while Peter took the couch, stating that he could just go home but chose to stay, therefore he wasn’t forced to sleep on the couch.

Despite all the love in the house, Tony had a nightmare that night. He woke up trembling, heart beating so wildly that he was scared he was dying. He wasn’t dying. Not anymore. He was merely reliving it; dying.

He rolled over to find Pepper and Morgan asleep, breathing calmly. Unaware of his breaking heart. He watched them for a moment, willing the sight to fix it, before he left the bed, left the room, and let his feet steer him to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass of water, he walked to the living room and watched Peter sleep, mumbling something, but it didn’t seem to be because of a nightmare. Tony hadn’t caught him crying again, but he knew it didn’t mean he never did. He himself was a living example of people not always noticing when you were cracking.

He took a sip of his water and moved on, toward the room were Harley was sleeping. He stopped before the door, listening. Opening it just a crack to find him curled up, back toward him, but breathing deeply enough that Tony knew he was asleep. He had no idea how Harley actually felt. If the snap had been traumatic. If he felt like he’d missed out on things. They hadn’t talked about it. Maybe they had to.

Another sip. He closed the door.

It took him longer to enter Nebula’s room. He felt that, out of everyone, she was the most likely one to be lying awake, thinking and overthinking. Maybe that was why he should enter. Give her some sense of peace in not being alone in that.

He cracked the door open, sticking his head in. She’d never looked so calm as she currently did. Her ever present frown all smoothed out, her mouth half open. Tony left immediately. Couldn’t bare the thought of accidentally waking her.

He took another sip and by the time he re-entered the kitchen his water was gone. He felt better. His heart felt more whole.

He was aware it would always be like this, but for once his reality was enough to make it worth it. He had his wife, best friends, and four kids. He’d saved the world for them and was grateful for it every single day. Life after the second or third snap was more than he could’ve asked for, really.

He went back to bed, Morgan claiming his prosthetic arm immediately.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://thesoundofnat.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
